There comes an exasperating moment, especially for us provocative, analytical, instigating souls, when the realization hits: We are both loud and wrong at the same time.

Moi: Guilty on all counts at about 10 a.m. Sunday.

That's when the moment of regret hit. All those years from behind this keyboard poking fun at runners. How running is a means and not an end. Nobody runs for the sake of running. You run to get somewhere, like first base or the bus. But to run for the sake of running? Too much like Sisyphus.

As previously stated: loud and wrong at the same time.

It wasn't long ago that a good friend convinced me to start running. Not sure why I acquiesced, other than summoning that Tom Cruise line, "sometimes, you just gotta say what the (heck)" from "Risky Business." So I began running. I called it "wunning" and "ralking," a combination of running and walking, mostly walking when it felt like my legs were about to go into business for themselves.

Now it's pretty much all running. And it's only the greatest thing ever.

And so Sunday morning, under the azure blue sky and among all the emerald green "Niantic Boardwalk 5K" T-Shirts, I ran my first road race. It was yours truly and about 600 others, all for the benefit of Niantic Main St., an awesomely awesome place that I call "Mystic, only without traffic."

I ran with "Team Makiaris," with the great Irene Makiaris, who runs Makiaris Media. Irene and her husband, Manny, live in Niantic (their son-in-law, Mark Brown, is a former GameDay announcer) and are the best of the town. Irene, who is north of 70, ran and finished the race, an inspiration to us all.

I finished in a glacially slow time of 45 minutes, still not terrible for a beginner, and with thanks to my friend and trainer Paul Palazzo. Highlight: running past the folks who live above Mermaid Liquors on Main St. They made merry on their deck and blasted music for us as we panted our way past. On the way past their house the first time: Chariots of Fire. Perfect. My brief thought: Bring on Roger Bannister. And then as the course looped and we headed down the stretch on the Boardwalk, we could hear "Eye Of The Tiger." I love those people and I have no idea who they are.

It didn't even matter that I was being dusted by little kids, people schlepping strollers and others who had a few (several?) years on me at the time.

Now for the best part: I never spent a more conscious 45 minutes. The lessons of the day have inspired and will endure. I never knew running's metaphorical richness. What I learned: It really is about the tortoise and the hare. Slow and steady wins the race. It's about direction, not speed. Patience. Never, ever giving up. All the things we can — and should — apply every day.

Running prompted me to look up an old line from my favorite book, "The Alchemist." It reads, "In pursuit of his dream, he was constantly being subjected to tests of his persistence and courage. So he could not be hasty nor impatient. If he pushed forward impulsively, he would fail to see the signs and omens placed by God along his path."

I noticed how many runners began the race quickly, only to tire out quickly. The practice of persistent patience allowed some of us to pass them along the way. And I thought: What a great lesson. How many obstacles in my life, past and present, were borne of impatience? It's like the Eagles once sang: "Who is gonna make it? We'll find out. In the long run."

It is a long run. Things change. Circumstances change. Feelings change. Life evolves. You never know when, how or why.  But it happens. Faithfully. And this is the other quote from The Alchemist that stays with me, reinforced by Sunday's voyage of self-discovery:

"When someone sees the same people every day, they wind up becoming a part of that person's life. And then they want the person to change. If someone isn't what others want them to be, the others become angry. Everyone seems to have a clear idea of how other people should lead their lives, but none about his or her own."

Amen to that.

Next race: May 20 at Ocean Beach. (Hopefully, I survive Brewfest at Ocean Beach on May 19). Meantime, it's about direction, not speed. Slow and steady. Be conscious of yourself before judging others.

Who is gonna make it? We'll find out. In the long run.

This is the opinion of Day sports columnist Mike DiMauro